It's finally over. We've reached a settlement, and I will not have to spend one more minute staring at Chul-Moo's miserable tanuki face. I hear his little side project is now calling themselves "the Jade Brotherhood." I used to think he was such a brilliant businessman, but now I see him for what he really is—a small-minded man with an even smaller bag of tricks. Acquiring the Xunlai brand was the last good idea he had for the company. I'm not so sure taking on the name of a bunch of long-dead mobsters will be quite as effective, but what do I know? I am, after all, a "visionless husk of a woman with a stick lodged so high up my rear end, it's a wonder I can bend at the waist." It almost didn't happen. At the last moment, his miserable mother got involved, insisting that she too was owed a payout for her "financial contributions to the company's early prototypes." Of course, Matron Park didn't anticipate my extensive recordkeeping—the look on her face when I produced the exact card in which she clearly referred to her contributions as a gift "for the future of my beautiful boy." I will treasure the memory. Gi-Moon and I ate so much janchi-guksu in celebration. He fixed it just the way Mother used to. Nothing has ever tasted so good.